


laying here looking up

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel
Genre: M/M, Pre-Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	laying here looking up

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a monthly challenge I threw myself into in order to get back into writing. Not beta'd so all mistakes are my own!

The chilly night air nipped at Bucky’s heels as he quickly made his way back to his small, barely standing building. His back ached with complainants from the docks, but he tried to push it to the back of his mind. The only thing he could find himself to think about was the way his bed would feel when he finally made contact with it. Bucky grunted quietly as he took the stairs by twos, barely slowing to a stop as he quickly opened the door.

Warmth hit his face as soon as he opened the door, and he sighed with relief. He tossed his keys onto the counter as he made his way through, quietly kicking off his shoes as not to disrupt anyone who might be sleeping. He winced at the memory of his elderly neighbor hitting him with the broom after he had roughly kicked his shoes off into the wall one evening in a rush. Hell, he hadn’t even registered that he’d done it until she was swinging the broom the next morning. Never let it be said that Mrs. Kings couldn’t hit. He still wondered where the nearly 90-year old had found the strength to hit him like that. His dirt covered jacket was abandoned on the dinner table, something he had been told not to do, but still did anyway. Bucky Barnes had never been one to listen, and he wasn’t about to start now even if it resulted in threats from Steve.

The apartment was one of the smaller ones in the city, and barely offered anything. To Bucky, it felt more like a pantry closet than a home, but at least it was his. He was grateful to have it as there were some people in the city that had it worse. The person that had once lived below him now found shelter under the old bridge on the other side of town. The apartment had heat, when it decided to work, and a decent view of the street. Bucky was grateful, but he often wished he was somewhere else. Somewhere uptown, maybe, where he could throw down his money on something whenever he felt the need, and not live paycheck to paycheck. Somewhere he didn’t need to break his back each week while he was chasing that dollar. It was never ending race, and he was starting to lose.

Bucky would like to say he’s surprised, but when he rounded the corner to the living room and a slouched figure of a man came into view; he only let a sigh of annoyance. He made his way over, and carefully nudged his sleeping guest.

“Steve, get up,” when the other man only groaned and made no attempt to move Bucky only pushed him harder, “Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me, punk. Get to bed; you’ll thank me in the morning.”

Tired eyes opened only to glare up at him, but Bucky only smirked. As much heat as those eyes could pack, he would never be able to take their owner seriously. Especially when his hair was a mess, and pencil streaks were present all over his face.

“Wasn’t sleeping jerk, I was waiting up for you.”

Bucky laughed and slapped his friend’s back, “Sure you were, Steve. I can tell by drool that you were definitely awake.” 

Steve huffed as he wiped the drool away and tried to lay down his hair, but gave up when it refused to budge from its position. Bucky just continued to smirk at him before throwing himself onto their only piece of actual furniture which was also known as the couch of a thousand sore necks. Anyone foolish enough to lay their head down to rest would only be met with a sore neck in the morning. At least that’s what Steve’s friend, Sam, had explained one morning after spending the night. Bucky didn’t quite believe him, but he wasn’t about to sleep on the couch to test to see if that was true. It was a perfectly fine couch to lie on for brief periods of time, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

“Why were you waiting up for me then? Can’t be too important if you fell asleep on the job,” Bucky didn’t bother to look over at Steve, he could practically feel the glare on him, but the heat left as Steve just hummed.

“Just thought that maybe we could go up to the roof for a bit. It’s been awhile since the sky was this clear, and I remember how you used to like it,” Steve suggested, and Bucky finally looked over at him. Blue eyes were staring at him intently as they searched him for something that they didn’t seem to find. Bucky wanted to say no, that he just wanted to lay there and sleep for the next 70 years, but he found himself nodding along anyway.

“Fine, but you go grab a jacket, don’t need you freezing to death on me.”

\--

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time that they took the time to come sit up here. It’d had probably been over a year, and he hated that fact. Steve was huddled on one of the old lawn chairs that they had apparently left behind, and Bucky just sat on the ground. They used to come up at least 3 times a week, and just sit. They didn’t talk much, rather just chose to enjoy the silence between themselves and look up.

Growing up, Bucky’s Ma always told him that if he needed answers that no one on the ground had, he just needed to look up and all the answers would be there. Maybe that was where it started, and maybe it wasn’t, but after that moment, Bucky started looking up. Whether it would be to see clouds drift by in the summer, or the storm clouds as they rolled through, but it was always the night sky that gripped him.

Bucky seemed to always be in trouble for ignoring the rule of bedtime in favor of looking out the window at the stars. He had started to memorize them at the age of 10, and much to Rebecca’s annoyance, would recite everything at dinner time as he hadn’t done it the night before. He learned the constellations, the planets, and where they were. His teachers all took him aside and told him that if he just tried harder in his classes and got the necessary grades, he could go to school and be an astronomer, but try as he might he just never could.

Bucky didn’t look up that much anymore seeing as life had kept his feet firmly planted on the ground, and kept him from looking up. Steve used to question it, and Bucky would just laugh it off with some excuse. He didn’t want to admit to his friend that life had done more taking than it had done giving.

“You don’t look much anymore, Buck,” Steve’s sudden voice made Bucky jump a little and Steve only chuckled at him.

“Sorry punk, not all of us can stop and stare like some people,” Bucky attempted a light joke but Steve didn’t even crack a grin at him, “Yeah, yeah I know. Not funny.”

“Well start looking again. I miss hearing you ramble on about the way ‘Ursa Major looks so good tonight Stevie, come see,’” 

Bucky looked over at his friend, and when he made eye contact, blue eyes sparkled in the moon’s light, and he could just make out the small twinkles of stars being reflected in them. For a moment, the world stopped moving and Bucky felt like he was the only one in motion. He gave Steve a pitiful nod without thinking, and Steve’s face broke into a grin that had Bucky’s heart hammering for a way out of his chest.

One day he’d tell Steve that he didn’t need to look up to find the answers, that he didn’t need to look at distant stars to give him comfort, that he need to do was look at Steve. Yeah, the stars were bright, but even they were dimmed when Steve looked at him.

**Author's Note:**

> [May]


End file.
